I Will See You In Far Off Places
by mfig
Summary: Years ago, Hermione shut everyone out of her life, and no one can fathom why. Now she is dead and left behind are her precious journals – the bearers of her secrets as well as the past her friends are so desperate to uncover. SS/HG
1. Chapter 1: Discovery

A/N: These characters aren't mine, I'm just using them for a bit of fun. I hope you all enjoy this first chapter. I'm a bit weary of writing more until at least seeing that there is some interest in this tale.

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"I can't believe we're actually standing here, mate." Ron stared at the silver coffin as it was lowered into the cold ground.

"I always figured that we be the first to go, not her." Harry added in agreement as his green eyes seemed to be clouded with grief.

"Why in the world was she even there to begin with? I keep constantly wondering if there was something we could have done."

"How could we? It wasn't as if she ever let us in. In fact, she was quite keen on keeping us completely out of her life."

"Still, I can't help but regret all the missed opportunities at confronting her about it. Perhaps if we had pushed harder then we could have prevented this from happening. She was too young and brilliant to have died this way."

"I know, I know." Harry sighed as he patted Ron's back, leading his now only living best friend out of the chilly cemetery.

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TWO DAYS LATER

"Well, at least some things never change," Ginny sighed as she wiped the sweat off her brows. Looking around her she wondered whether or not they would ever be able to get all of Hermione's book collection packed. It seemed as if the witch had more books than the Hogwarts library.

"Merlin, she sure loved to read!" Fred piped in as well as he closed yet another box of books.

"Just look at these books, some of them are absolutely ancient and quite rare. Hermione must have some serious contacts to have gotten her hands on some of these."

Nodding George levitated two boxes and stacked them one on top of the other. "What are we going to do with these? It doesn't seem right to just give them away or sale them."

"No, it doesn't," Ron frowned.

"Then why don't we each keep a few so that way they'll be in good hands and amongst friends…I'm sure Hermione would have liked that. Perhaps we can later donate them to Hogwarts; I don't think she would have minded that either."

Harry looked over at Ginny who smiled widely at him, love radiating from her eyes. "I think it's a wonderful idea."

Smiling as well Ron picked up another book, but stopped once he read the title. Running his hand along the leather surface he slowly traced the bold letters that spelled out 'journal'.

"You guys, I think I found something."

"Another book?" George asked sarcastically as he tossed a few more into another box.

"No, a journal and I think it belonged to Hermione."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked.

"Pretty sure, look it's her hand writing!"

"It could be a childhood journal, Ron." Ginny called out from across the study.

"No, the date is pretty recent…."Ron trailed off as he manoeuvred through the small labyrinth of boxes and flopped himself onto the large suede couch near the fireplace.

"Then we shouldn't be reading it." Harry reached to take the journal away from him, but Ron quickly ducked and hopped over to the overstuffed arm chair of the same material.

"Why not? For years we've wondered what she had been up to and now we have the opportunity to know. She's gone Harry and there's nothing that can be done about it, but we can at least have some peace of mind…finally know why she chose to keep us at arm's length."

His words were soft and sad as he stared down at the leather-bound journal. When no further words of protest came from the others, Ron opened the journal. Looking up he found that everyone had stopped packing and had moved to the couch, each one staring up at him expectantly.

Ron took a deep breath and looked down at Hermione's neat handwriting, "august twenty-ninth…"

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August 29, 2006

Hermione peered out the front window of her small bookshop, sighing in relief she noticed that the streets where no longer overflowing with last minute shoppers. It had been a tough week, especially with the new school term bound to start in a few days and, as always, the majority of parents and students had left their back to school shopping till the last week. Turning around she began to manoeuvre around the cramp quarters, picking up stray books and placing them back in their rightful place. Although a bit tight when it came to space, her bookshop was actually the most popular in Diagon Alley. Carrying a wide variety of books, both muggle and magical – the young witch had managed to make quite the name for herself within the book business.

Preoccupied in organizing the mess before her, she completely failed to hear the ringing of the small little bell that hanged over the door. Suddenly feeling a hand on her shoulder, she whirled around, pointing her wand right into a black-clad chest, but immediately lowered it once she saw who was standing before her.

"Miss Granger."

"Headmaster Snape, I'm terribly sorry. You gave me quite the scare for a moment there."

"Yes, I see. Next time I suggest you aim between the eyes, Miss Granger."

"Of course…I'll try to keep that in mind, headmaster."

"Please, there's no need for the formal title," his voice was as smooth as silk, just like she remembered, although this time it wasn't dripping with disdain when regarding her.

Hermione arched one perfectly defined eyebrow, "so the rumours are true?"

"I don't see how it may concern you, but yes, the rumours are true. This year Minerva will be taking the reins as headmistress of Hogwarts."

"How lovely!" Hermione exclaimed in genuine delight for her former mentor before catching herself. "Although, a shame that you're leaving."

"Spare me, Granger. I do not require your sympathy, but I do need your assistance in finding these particular books."

Reaching inside his coat pocket, he produced a short list, and handed it over to Hermione. Immediately she jumped into action, mentally distinguishing witch text she had in the store, and which ones she would need to order.

"Some of these are extremely rare…"

"I've heard that's your specialty."

"Then you heard correctly. I have half these texts in stock, but the other half will need to be order. I can probably have them here next week."

"Good, I'll be back in a week."

"But…" before Hermione could finish her sentence, he had Apparated.

Shaking her head, Hermione tucked the list into the pockets of her robes. If anyone had thought that Severus Snape would somehow change after the Great War, they were most certainly mistaken. The man had not changed one single bit; he was still as impatient as ever – only sparring anyone a second glass whenever they were of some relevance to his existence. Beyond that, she figured, he just couldn't be bothered.

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September 12, 2006

Once again, he managed to catch her completely off guard before closing up the shop.

"You're going to have to stop sneaking up on me," she held a hand to her chest.

"Then I suggest you start paying more attention. Now, if you don't mind, I'm here to collect my order."

"Of course," she made her way towards the front desk, reaching underneath the massive counter to retrieve his order.

"I wouldn't shrink them since it could cause some damage to the spines."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Nodding she placed them inside the shopping bags, casing a weightless charm on them for his convenience. The bill was discretely slipped across the counter, Snape reaching into his wallet and retrieving a small pouch of galleons which he placed in front of her without even counting them.

"Aren't you going to count it?"

Shrugging, she looked up at Snape, her brown eyes shining. "I think I can trust you."

"How terribly Gryffindor," he frowned unimpressed.

"And how predictably Slytherin to presume I would lack such tact as to count the money in front of you."

"I could have swindled you."

His voice once more turned to silk, as he stepped closer his graceful but slightly dark demeanour meaning to intimidate, but instead of shrinking away like most people tended to, Hermione gathered all her Gryffindor courage and stood her ground. Her warm whiskey colour eyes never once wavered as she smiled demurely.

"Lucky for me, I know exactly where you live."

It was his turn to now arch an eyebrow.

"And what if I refuse to cooperate?"

Was it her imagination or had his voice dropped and octave or two?

"Oh believe me, _sir_. I have my ways…."

Yet, instead of answering his lips quirked around the corners almost resembling a smile, "Good evening, Miss Granger."

"Please," she repeated his exact words from two weeks ago, "there's no need for the formal title."

With one last nod he was gone from the little bookshop. His black robes billowing behind him, as he strode to the end of the street and Apparated away. Bringing a hand to her chest, she finally exhaled the breath she had unknowingly been holding.

It seemed as if she was definitely worth more than a mere second glance.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2: Interest

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad there's interest out there. I don't plan on making it too long, although one never knows.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

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"That's it? She sold a few books to Snape. Someone alert the media!"

Ginny rolled her eyes, "I think we need to go back further."

"It wasn't until December of that year that Hermione started acting oddly."

Ron nodded while moving toward the other three journals.

"I'll take this one home, Ginny you finish reading that one, Harry here's one for you too, and George you can take this one…it's unfinished, so it shouldn't be too much for that pea size brain of yours to handle."

"Oi, I resent that."

"He's only teasing you," Harry smirked, shrinking his journal as well as Ginny's to fit in the palm of his hand, and then stuffing them into the pocket of his jeans.

"Well, I think we're done here for tonight. I say we all head home, looks like you lot have quite a lot of reading to do."

Ginny nodded with a smirk. "Yes, we do, which leaves you to finish up here."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope," George laughed slipping on his jacket, "come on you guys, we've got reading to do."

"But there are still four bookshelves left," he whined as Ginny and Harry Apparated.

"Ron, come on, at least help me with one bookshelf."

The youngest of the male Weasley shrugged before popping out of the room.

"George, George…come on…you git!"

With a waggle of his eyebrows, George was gone as well, leaving behind a mightily pissed off Fred.

"Bugger this," and with three waves of his wand, the wards were up, the roaring fire was out, and he was suddenly standing in the middle of his kitchen.

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Ron sat in bed, his black rimmed glasses sitting on his lightly freckled nose. His eyes moved over the pages, devouring every word as if they were from Merlin himself.

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October 31, 2006

Another month passed before she saw him again, but this time around they were both in muggle London. Her eyes curiously took in every detail of his wardrobe, which no longer consisted of his usual pristine black robes. Instead, he wore a pair of very smart looking black trousers, and what seemed to be like a simple white t-shirt peeking out from the v-neck of his jumper.

_A rather simple outfit, for such a complicated man_, she thought to herself. Looking down at her book she couldn't help but slightly smile. He was indeed a complicated man, but an oddly captivating one. Although, he was a right terror during her schoolgirl days, it still hadn't deterred her from having the occasional day dream about her horrid potions professor.

She had even shared one with Ginny one summer – it wasn't as if they had much to do at the time.

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Ron rolled his eyes, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

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"Miss Granger."

A silky voice she knew far too well purred near her ear. Hermione looked up from her book, Snape longer conveniently in front of her, but rather besides her.

"I thought we agreed to dispense with the formal titles."

"Indeed, Hermione."

A more sociable man would have chuckled, but he wasn't sociable, nor was he known to chuckle.

"Fancy meeting you here, Severus."

"Yes, it seems are paths are destined to cross today. What brings you to London?"

"I was visiting my parents. I thought I stopped by and pick up a few muggle novels. What about you?"

"The same, actually."

"Retirement proving to be a bit boring?" she ventured to presume – Gryffindor courage and all.

Once more she could have sworn that the corners of his mouth made an upward pull into a semblance of a smile.

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"I'll take that as a yes. Excuse me? Did you say something, I must have missed it."

Her brown eyes shined with mirth, as she realized that she was enjoying far too much teasing him. Something she would have never dared done a couple of years ago, but those were different times, and they were both different people now. Their roles were no longer that of student and teacher or elder and youngster.

Hardly, in fact the strong of heart could perhaps dare to call them equals. He was a wizard nearing his prime, while she was one of the most successful and respected book shop owners in all of the wizarding community, both were war heroes, as well as scholars in their own right.

Yes, they were definitely on equal ground. Why shouldn't she enjoy being able to tease him slightly? He hadn't chewed her head off yet, and Hermione always enjoyed pushing the envelope just the tiniest bit.

"That's because I didn't intend for you to hear it, but once again your insatiable curiosity seems to have overpower any sense of decorum you might possess. I called you an insufferable know-it-all."

He added the last bit, as an afterthought – voice never faltering from its usual indifferent, slightly pained, always smug tone.

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Ron's lips curved into a knowing smile, before morphing into a worried frown. There seemed to be an awful lot about Snape in Hermione's journal. As to what extent, he would have to keep on reading to find out.

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"Ah well, you see that would have bothered me once ago, but now I proudly wear the title. My ability to be insufferable has definitely opened a few doors, and gotten a few uncooperative book dealers to see things my way. And as for being a know-it-all, well that really can't be helped, can't it? I consider myself a serious scholar, and I would even go as far as to point out, with no ill will of course, that you could also be labeled a know-it-all as well."

"You're wrong, Hermione. I can hardly be a know-it-all, since I'm already the greasy bat of the dungeons."

"I never called you that…" she quickly interjected, but the words died on her lips once she looked into his eyes, the inky black depths twinkling against the fluorescent lights of the bookstore.

"Wait, you actually liked being called the greasy bat of the dungeons? You did!"

He shrugged, crossing his arms.

"And what if I did? It made me unapproachable, and thus untouchable. It gave me reign over the dunderhead, allowing me to rule with an iron fist. All I required to effectively teach my classes was obedience."

"What about respect?"

"I'll concede that respect does garner obedience, but so does terror. I really didn't care where it came from, just as long as I had it."

"I respected…I mean, I respect you."

His eyes twinkled again, as he leaned closer to her. "How…interesting."

Once more, he managed to make a quick retreat. A clumsy shopper bumping into Hermione, and distracting her enough to turn around for one second, to then find the spot he had occupied suddenly bereft.

"Indeed."

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"Ugh, don't tell me she fancied Snape?"

Closing the journal, he placed it on the nightstand alongside his reading glasses. Why in the world had Hermione seen in Snape? It wasn't as if he was charming or good looking. Although, he figured, he was very clever, and so was Hermione.

Perhaps he stimulated her intellectually? That had to be it, he thought. He just couldn't keep his supper down if he thought about the greasy git stimulating her in any other manner.

**TBC**


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